


if not by faith, then by the sword

by SnailArmy



Category: High Noon Over Camelot - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Religion Kink, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, christianity with the serial numbers filed off but make it horny, jonny gets called a harlot and that's really all you need to know, mild exhibitionism/voyeurism, trans jonny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnailArmy/pseuds/SnailArmy
Summary: Jonny has some fun in Camelot. Brian may or may not be amused. Galahad is not a nice person, but you know what? Jonny's into that.
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville/Galahad (High Noon Over Camelot), implied jonny d'ville/drumbot brian
Comments: 6
Kudos: 134
Collections: Stowaways NSFW 2020





	if not by faith, then by the sword

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [orcamermaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orcamermaid/pseuds/orcamermaid) in the [stowaways_nsfw_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stowaways_nsfw_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> okay so. mainly inspired by how weirdly horny jonny sounds about galahad in dttm. also inspired by discussion on discord. anyway. the prompt is. jonny shows up on fort galfridian. runs into galahad, who's like "you're a sinner and you need to repent" and jonny is like cool that sounds kinky and you're hot so i'm down. they fuck about it. this is the main prompt. you can just write that if you want. however. what i would REALLY like is if galahad's idea of repentance involves getting jonny to worship at the feet of the prophet. so he takes him to brian. obviously galahad doesn't know they know each other and jonny and brian just kinda go along with it bc it's hot and stranger things have happened. so yeah i want jonny getting railed by brian and galahad while galahad tells him how lucky a filthy sinner like him is to be in their presence, to be used by them, to be allowed to worship them. i think it would be fun if jonny and brian pretended not to know each other, both so they don't tip galahad off and so they can like... be someone a bit different. like maybe brian wants to play at being this aloof authority figure gracing jonny with his presence, and maybe jonny wants to let himself be a bit more pliant and desperate than usual. up to you!
> 
> i don't know if this is any good but this prompt would _not_ leave my head so. enjoy this. 
> 
> title from Hebrews 11:40, by the mountain goats. it's a pun, you see. because sword is a euphemism for penis, but also, jonny is a violent little bastard.

Jonny fell roughly to his hands and knees, kicking up clouds of flaky rust that sent him coughing. It was as dark as it ever got on Galfridian, pinpricks of light visible where the rust had eaten through the metal separating one level from the next in a mockery of stars, but it was still hot as hell and Jonny's palms burned. Galahad, who had so rudely shoved him to the ground, spat derisively in his general direction. In front of him, the hanged man swayed in a non-existent breeze, joints creaking ominously in the dark. The fucker always did have a flair for dramatics. Jonny looked up for a moment and caught _Merlin's_ questioning eye. Jonny gave him a wink and a nod, and Brian returned a shrug and a grin. Then, entirely unprompted, he began to sing. 

_My sinner, my love, you come to me at last  
You could have been saved if only you thought to ask  
Now beg at my feet and keep your eyes downcast  
There may be hope for you yet  
Repent and grovel, and give yourself over to  
Us who know and want what's best for you  
Bare your sins and we may absolve you  
And punish you as you deserve_

His voice was low and rough, as if colored by more than just the years of grit in his vocal processor. Jonny was not ashamed to admit that the sound went straight to his dick. As he opened his mouth to sing his retort, Galahad grabbed his lower jaw, cutting off any attempt at a snide comment and digging his thumb into the soft flesh of his tongue. 

"The man told you to beg, _son_." The words were hard and cold and left no room to disobey. 

Galahad released him with a shove, practically throwing Jonny's head to the ground. Giving Galahad the best glare he could manage (which was not great, considering their relative positions), Jonny prostrated himself before the hanged man, stretching his arms out in front and pressing his forehead to the burning metal ground. Above him, he could hear Galahad laughing, manic and desperate. Jonny couldn't help but join in. 

As he did he felt the sole of Galahad's boot press into his wrists. He recoiled instinctively, but Galahad just pressed harder, and Jonny felt the heat seeping into his tender flesh. 

"Tell me, son. What have you done to earn your salvation?"

That was not the question Jonny had been expecting. He could list his alleged 'sins' all day, and had on one occasion been in confession for a week straight. Had he done any good deeds recently to make up for them, though? He racked his brain. 

"Nothing." He answered truthfully, earning a mouthful of rust for his efforts. 

"Damn right." The boot pressed down harder, and Jonny swore he could feel the bones in his wrist shifting with the pressure. He also swore out loud, earning another laugh from Galahad. Did he know he was immortal, or was he just too far gone to care? "You're as broken and worthless as everyone else on this station. But," and here he removed his foot entirely, offering instead a hand to help Jonny to his knees. "There is a way you may be saved."

"Oh, _do_ tell, Father Galahad," Jonny replied with as little sarcasm as he could muster. 

"Salvation is earned not through words, but through deeds. So put that filthy mouth of yours to use."

Jonny grinned. That was something he could do. He wasted no time in reaching for Galahad's belt and pulling out his cock, giving it a few rough strokes before taking just the tip of it in his mouth. It wasn't huge, by any stretch of the imagination, but Jonny was in no rush. 

Galahad threaded his hands through Jonny's hair and pulled, fucking into his mouth and forcing Jonny to look up at him. They locked eyes for a long moment before Jonny caught sight of movement over Galahad’s shoulder. The hanged man was watching them. He would have smiled, had his lips not been otherwise occupied. Hanging from the gallows all day must get boring; it was the least he could do to provide some entertainment. 

With renewed effort Jonny took control from Galahad, lavishing his cock with his tongue and moaning loud enough that Brian would be sure to hear. He could feel Galahad tensing underneath him, and with an exaggerated movement Jonny took him to the base. Before he could really get to work, Galahad yanked his hair again, pulling him off his cock and slapping him across the face for good measure. 

"Are you enjoying yourself, you fucking harlot?" Galahad snarled, no less intimidating for his red and leaking cock. Well, maybe a bit less intimidating. 

Jonny took a moment to wipe the worst of the drool off his chin, cheek still stinging from the blow. "I'd say I've earned that, at the very least."

"I am trying to _save_ you, you ungrateful wretch." Another slap: the night was going even better than expected. He'd have to thank Brian for finding this place. "You need to surrender yourself, body and soul. Are you prepared to do that, Jonny?"

Galahad grabbed Jonny by the collar and pulled him to his feet. He couldn’t have cared that much about the answer, because immediately he dragged Jonny into a violent kiss. Jonny threw himself into it, biting and giving back twice what Galahad gave. He didn't even notice they were moving until his back slammed into one of the rusted metal beams that made up the scaffold from which Merlin hung. Galahad was practically straddling him, pinning him against the unyielding metal and biting down the length of his jaw and throat. 

Jonny reached for the fastenings of Galahad's shirt, prepared to remove it, but the preacher stopped him. "This isn't about me, son." Instead, he undid Jonny's belt buckle, pulling trousers and pants down around his knees in one smooth motion. 

Jonny let out a faint cry of surprise as he was hoisted into position. Galahad resumed kissing him, but now his hands were wandering, grabbing at his thighs and ghosting over his dick. Almost without warning, he slid a finger inside, then two. Even muffled as it was by Galahad's lips, Jonny was sure everyone in Camelot heard his moan. 

"Jonny?" The voice of the Drumbot behind him, tender and concerned in a way that was entirely out of place. 

"I'm good. It's good." It was _very_ good, in fact. Galahad was working him open with calloused fingers, muttering sweet nothings about "sin" and "repentance" into his mouth. He leaned back into the metal support, bracing himself to get a better angle as he grabbed the back of Galahad's neck for leverage. The damn rust stain would probably never wash out of this waistcoat, but that was a problem for future Jonny. 

Current Jonny had his legs around Galahad's waist, the other man lining up to enter him. And he did, rough and unforgiving and _just right._ Behind the sound of his own moans he could hear Brian's breath hitch, just from the sight of them, and he couldn't help but grin. Galahad set a punishing pace and Jonny leaned into it, making a show of his enjoyment. If he let himself be a little more vocal, a little more needy than usual, well. It was all for the show. Galahad was more than happy to oblige him, biting kisses onto his neck and shoulder, working his dick with a free hand. 

"Do you have any idea how lucky you are?" Galahad drawled, somewhere in the region of Jonny's collarbone. "A filthy sinner like you, to be saved in the presence of the prophet?" 

A grunt was all Jonny could manage in response as Galahad punctuated his question with a particularly wicked thrust. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to his chest, rubbing the skin raw where Galahad was pressed up against him. 

"Give up your wicked ways, son. There's still a chance for you." 

Jonny's derisive laugh was cut short by a gasp as Galahad pulled at his dick. "I lost my last chance a long time ago, but I- ah- appreciate the sentiment." 

Galahad growled and redoubled his efforts, foregoing conversation to bite at Jonny's mouth again in a (successful) attempt to shut him up. 

Jonny finished first, tensing up with a muffled exclamation and shoving Galahad away. He took the hint, stepping back and lowering Jonny to his feet. With a few rough strokes he finished himself off, cum splattering on the ground with the faintest sizzle. Faintly, Jonny thought he heard Brian muttering complaints, but in the lingering haze of his orgasm he couldn't care less. Galahad could come wherever he pleased, so long as it didn't further ruin Jonny's outfit. The ground was as good a place as any. 

The artificial lights were just beginning to flicker on as Galahad fixed his pants and sulked off into town without so much as a look behind him. Jonny sat on the edge of the scaffold, legs dangling off the edge, watching the "sunrise." 

From behind him, the hanged man spoke. "There have to be better ways to work through your issues." 

Jonny snorted. "I thought _Merlin_ only gave prophesies in the form of cryptic rhymes." 

"Well, _Brian_ doesn't, and he thinks you have terrible taste in men." 

"Speaking of Brian," Jonny tucked his legs under him and turned around to look up at the hanged man. Despite the rust, his brass form was almost radiant in the faint light. "How is he? Need a hand?" 

Brian just sighed and tried to shake his head, sending his body swaying. "You know I can't leave until I've finished my sentence. 'Hanged until dead,' the bastards just _had_ to specify." 

"Not what I meant." Abruptly, Jonny remembered the pack of cigarettes he had stashed amongst his harmonicas. He pulled one out and lit it, taking a long drag and reveling in the quiet moment. Eventually, he gestured with his smoke in the general direction of the Drumbot's crotch. "I wouldn't want to leave you _hanging._ I've seen how you're _hung_ , it wouldn't be _noose_ to me."

"Seriously? Even you have to admit that last one was a stretch." Brian ignored Jonny’s offended scoff. "Besides, I'm pretty sure my dick rusted off like seventy years ago." 

Jonny took another long drag. "Damn." 

"Yeah," Brian said after a long while. "Damn." 

They sat in silence until the lights came on fully, blanketing Camelot in the oppressive heat, almost imperceptibly worse than it was yesterday. In the distance, motorbikes revved, and the first gunshots of the day fired somewhere out in the wastes. 

Jonny hopped down from the gallows, flicking his cigarette butt at Merlin's feet. As he turned to go, one last thought struck him. 

"Hey, Brian?"

"What is it, Jonny?"

"Next time, we're visiting a planet with lube."

Brian laughed at that, full-hearted and cracked from years of disuse and rust. "Deal."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [in our gethsemane](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773001) by [Anecdoche (so_psychso)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/so_psychso/pseuds/Anecdoche)




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